


Barrier

by NaughtyBees



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Crushes, First Meetings, Fluff, Language Barrier, M/M, Maori, Maori Roadhog | Mako Rutledge, Please please tell me if this is at all insensitive, also if the language needs correcting, coffee shop AU, i know its old hat shush, i think its fine but just in case
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-26
Updated: 2018-12-26
Packaged: 2019-09-28 04:50:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,912
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17176220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NaughtyBees/pseuds/NaughtyBees
Summary: Jamison Fawkes has been lusting after one of the coffee shop patrons for a long time. Finally, he gets a chance to speak to him and realises maybe courting his crush will be just a little harder than he expected.





	Barrier

He was there again. Jamison didn't even know his name. Lúcio called him ‘the metal dude’. Hana called him ‘the giant’. Jamie didn't know what to call him. He didn't speak, and he always wore headphones so Jamie couldn't talk to him. Every day he'd stand in line, towering over everyone, all tattoos, piercings, band shirts with black jeans and spiked bracelets. Jamie loved the black nail polish best. Every day he'd jab his finger at the same menu item, give the exact amount, drop whatever coins he had in the tip jar, then he'd leave with his coffee.

Jamie didn't like coffee. While the others had a nice cup on their breaks, he popped out back for a joint. It stopped his shakes and relaxed him so he could actually function. Jamie wasn't very well versed in metal music, he preferred music he could smoke to (a little Pink Floyd was well appreciated) so he always wondered what the big guy was listening to. 

It was cold. Not just cold, it was freezing. Jamie was surprised birds weren't turning to ice and smashing onto the slippery roads. Although cold weather meant more people wanted coffee, it was far too cold for anyone to want to walk to where the shop was so they weren't as busy as usual. Jamie desperately wanted to go on his break but he'd forgotten practically everything he needed to stand in the cold for ten minutes and he was wrestling with his decision. Then the bell twinkled, and familiar heavy boots thumped up to the counter. 

Turning, Jamie was a little surprised. The big guy was only wearing a hoodie. No coat or anything. He was a little pink in the face but that was all that seemed off about him. The same routine. Jabbing finger, exact total plus tip, one large flat white. Jamie wished the man would take off his headphones, just say one thing to him…

Instead of walking back into the cold, the man seated himself in the corner of the room, beginning to sip his coffee.  
Now was his chance. 

“Goin’ on break!” Jamie called fingers shaking as he got himself some boba and plated up an almond croissant and took it over to the big guy, his broad shoulders just slightly twitching as he startled. “Sorry, mate.” He smiled, making eye contact as he waited for the man to take his headphones off. When he didn't, Jamie gestured to his head and the man paused his music, setting the headphones on the table. “Can I?” He asked, gesturing to the empty seat. When the man nodded, he sat down and set the croissant in front of him. “Kinda cold, you look like you needed something to cheer you up.”

The man nodded and took the pastry, eating it in two bites. Fuck, he had an appetite... Jamie flushed just thinking about it, smiling as he leant forward, taking a gulp of his boba. “You're quite the regular, ain't ya? There a reason you never sit in? You always grab your coffee and leave, I never get a chance to speak to you!” He paused for breath and the man kept looking at him, coffee looking comically small in his huge hands. “You look cosy in your hoodie. What band is that, Amon Amarth? Is that metal?” He asked, anxiously making his straw creak on the plastic lid. “You look the part anyway. All long hair and black clothes. Super cool! I never liked metal, mind you my only experience is Iron Maiden so I don't know…” God, he probably sounded like such a tit. “I’m a stoner, all about Pink Floyd, y’know? You like Pink Floyd?”

Still, the man stared at him, brown eyes partially obscured by his hair. Jamie began to sweat, his shaking getting bad. “I'm Jamison, by the way.” He glanced down at his name tag, realising that the man probably knew. Still, he held out a skinny hand toward him. 

A large hand encompassed his, taking half his forearm as well. The voice that greeted him was deep, rumbling in his chest, like distant tropical thunder. It made Jamison's face flush when he heard it.  
“Mako.” The man said, looking back to his coffee. 

“Wow! Like the shark? Sorry, I bet everyone says that.” He smiled. “Kinda guessed you were Māori, from the tattoos.” He couldn't see them for the hoodie but he'd seen them before, trying to memorise their lines and swirls. “What are they called? Tā moko?” He remembered. He'd looked it up when Mako had first come in. An all nighter soaking up any and all information he could find on his beat up old PC. So he had a big crush, so what?

Mako rolled up his sleeves, his muscular arms adorned with patterns, and Jamie reached out a tentative hand. Mako nodded to say it was fine, and he touched his arm, weathered skin over hard muscle making Jamie shiver. His cold fingers followed the swirls on the warm skin, causing goosebumps to raise on Mako's arm. “Sorry.” Jamie giggled. “They're so cool! I'd say I want some but I know it's a sacred thing. Yours look amazin' though, mate!” He went back to his boba, sipping it, letting Mako roll his sleeves down again. 

The silence then made Jamie feel even more anxious and he desperately wanted a smoke. His fingers tapped rapidly on the lid of the cup, his arm stump wet from the condensation. Mako gestured to his missing arm and Jamie looked at it. “Oh yeah. Don't worry, I was born with a malformed arm, I had to have it removed. But I don't mind.” He tapped it on the table with a smile. “Been thinking of getting a tattoo on it. What do you think? What should I have done?” He asked, heart hammering in his chest, stomach tight as he realised he'd been practically shouting at this poor dude.

Mako looked at him with a tilted head, opening and closing his mouth as he formed his words. “Sorry.” He mumbled, looking away. “Bad English.” He muttered something in Māori and shrugged. 

Jamison went bright red, slapping his own forehead. He barely spoke English. What a fucking cock up. “I'm so sorry! Here's me, chatting away when you can't understand me!” He put his head in his hand, groaning. “I'm such an idiot.” He looked at Mako with a heavy sigh, wondering how to rectify it. After a moment, he picked up Mako's headphones, thinking maybe they could communicate with music. Or something like that... “What are you listening to?” 

Mako pulled out his phone and pressed play on Spotify. The music that thrummed from his headphones made Jamison feel like he was having a spiritual awakening. The thunderous rhythm, immediate guitar hook with violently brilliant drumming. Then came the vocals, explosive Māori chanting, his hair standing on end as he listened to it. It was cathartic, it was angry, it made Jamison wonder how he had lived all this time without hearing something that made him feel so alive. His face must have said it all as Mako smiled at him, nodding. “Alien Weaponry.” Mako rumbled, grinning.

Jamison couldn’t help but flop forward onto the table, his shaking stopping as he listened. He’d never believed in thinking that music showed someone’s soul, dismissing it as being a little silly. But he felt like he knew Mako so much better. He listened to the end of the song, his heart beating in his throat, eyes wide as he took the headphones off. “Alien Weaponry.” With a trembling hand, he fished a pen from his apron and tried to write it on his arm, finding it difficult. A large, soft hand encompassed his and he looked up as Mako wrote the band name on his skin, giving it a cursory pat. Jamie watched as he drank the dregs of his coffee then stood, giving him a slight wave as he turned and walked from the door.

Feeling like he was about to wet himself, Jamie sank to the freshly mopped floor and groaned, hands over his face. Lúcio looked over and asked how it went with a grin. “I talked at him for ages without realising he barely speaks English. And he’s so amazing.”

Lúcio shrugged as he cleaned off Mako’s table. “So find a way to show him you care about him.”  
Jamie sat up, nodding as he tapped his chin. He had the perfect plan.

oOo

Jamie’s lips moved as he whispered to himself. It was a slow day and he spent that time running over what he’d say in his head. He was so preoccupied he got someone’s order wrong twice, nearly spilling it as he shook with anticipation.  
When familiar heavy boots thumped in, snow dropping from them onto the floor, Jamie jumped to attention, shaking so hard he looked like a human vibrator. Mako took off his headphones, smiling at Jamie. That smile...it made him feel weak at the knees, heart in his throat.

Before Mako ordered, Jamie took a deep breath. “Kia ora, mate!” He chimed, clenching his teeth. He looked at his hand, glancing at the shaky notes he’d made. Okay, ask how he is, conversational basic. “Kei te pēhea koe?”

The smile on Mako’s face made Jamison feel as though he were flying. He’d never seen anyone look more ecstatic in his life. It took him a moment to speak, having to clear his throat and swallow. “Ah… Kei te koa au.” He muttered to Jamie who tried to remember if he’d learnt that. Happy. It meant Mako was happy. 

Jamie tried to stop trembling, suddenly freezing as he felt his hand squeezed by strong fingers. He looked up at Mako, seeing him waiting with a smile so warm it could melt ice. He looked at his arm again. Take his order… “He aha tō hiahia?” He asked, knowing what he wanted but asking anyway. The hand around his tightened, Mako’s thumb rubbing over his wrist in little circles. 

Mako gestured to the menu, but tightened his grip on Jamie before he could pull away. The smaller man looked up at him with a deep blush, watching how he leant forward, belly resting on the counter. Mako’s other hand reached down his body, keeping eye contact as he found where Jamie had put his pen. He pulled it out, brushing Jamie’s hip, and began to write his phone number on his arm. Like a parched man, he drank in the digits greedily, hoping they’d be burnt into his retina forever. Mako trailed his rough palm down his arm as he drew back again, standing there waiting for his coffee as though nothing had happened. 

Jamie realised he hadn’t been breathing a little too late as his legs gave out and he thumped to the floor with a pitiful whine. Mako’s booming laughter made him feel like crying, the embarrassment and pure attraction he felt bringing forth such a whirlwind of emotion. He could barely stand, wobbling as he saw Lúcio round the corner.

“Oh, thank fuck you’re here.” Jamie muttered to him. “I’m taking my sick day now, I feel faint.” He said as Lúcio helped steady him. “Also…” Looking from him to Mako (who was still smiling, knowing full well what effect he’d had on Jamie), he held up two trembling fingers.  
“...Two flat whites to go.”

**Author's Note:**

> Listen to Alien Weaponry here!!! 
> 
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CrGHGwH2wlg


End file.
